3/28/2010 at 15:37

{Some people have friends to dinner; I have friends to tea. So, gentle reader, I'll start my observations on the attempts of some of the more infamous recent Tea Parties to conform to their bottom-of-the-rabbit-hole prototype by pouring you a cuppa.

One does wonder, after all. The Hatter at the original Mad Tea Party had Mad Hatters' Disease—the neurological disease which afflicted 19th-century hatters because of the mercury used in hats' manufacture. {Have a scone. I bake them myself.} Symptoms included aggressiveness, mood swings, and antisocial behavior, but one might as easily use whatever other descriptors are serving as the euphemism du jour for “hurling epithets, abuse or bodily fluids on minority government officials, men with Parkinson's disease, and political opponents.” The most, ahem, notable Tea Parties held of late seem to be centered around—nay, held to extol—such symptomatology. That is to say, behavior. {Butter or jam? Blackberry jam goes well with these.}

Indeed, some of the other signs of mercury poisoning—loss of ability to learn new information, twitching, inappropriately repetitive actions—have been prominent at these Tea Parties as well. The repetition of phrases like “death panels” and shrieks of “private insurance becoming illegal” after the text of the bill was finalized, by both those at the Tea Parties and those in power who were, ah, encouraging the Parties—Queens of certain Red suits—do demonstrate some deficiencies along these lines as well. {Would you like some strawberries? Grapes?}

There has also been an excessive amount of frothing at the mouth at these Parties. It is a phenomenon associated heavily in the popular mind with rabies, the symptoms of which—violent movements, uncontrolled excitement, and mania—have been prominent at these affairs too. {Slice of manchego? No? Well, cheddar goes well with grapes...} I am uncertain as to how much biting has been occurring at such parties—but there certainly has been profuse salivation; and many of the attendees do seem, at least in passing, to be warm-blooded. {Butterscotch cake? The icing is my own recipe.}

There is also the question of whether such behavior may legitimately be called “hare-brained”; though that is, admittedly, a far less viable hypothesis. Hares were indeed supposed to behave madly in March—jumping excessively high and 'boxing' each other—but March is the poor things' mating season, after all. Given the utter lack of restraint of the Tea Parties' attendees, it is obvious that if the same had been the case for them, their doings would have been enough to make the viewing public blush. Well, enough to make them blush in offense. That is to say, enough to make them blush in offense at the attendees' overt, er, lasciviousness rather than at their pathological behavior. {Here, let me top up your cup...oh, dear, the teapot's empty.}

I am morally certain that there are more parallels between Tea Partiers and pathologies to be drawn, gentle readers; but the last of the tea has gone, and alas, we must return to normal life. Draw your minds back up the rabbit-hole, and leave our speculations to rest in the land of these tawdry affairs and their attendees.